


idiom

by ushijima ebooks (bokutowl)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Sickfic, the obvious start of some major mutual pining, watari #1 friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 18:14:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4189983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bokutowl/pseuds/ushijima%20ebooks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yahaba's lips pulled into a smile as he said softly, barely above a whisper, "You know, I'm pretty sure there's an idiom in English for this."  </p>
<p>(Or, alternatively; Kyoutani is absent from practice for the first time in a long time and Yahaba tries to rationalize something irrational.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	idiom

**Author's Note:**

  * For [puppykihyun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/puppykihyun/gifts).



> pls.... enjoy.....

Yahaba didn't know what was odder; the fact that Kyoutani hadn't shown up to morning practice, or the fact that Kyoutani being absent was odd in the first place. His second-year self would have laughed himself right into a grave if someone had told him that Kyoutani coming to practice would become a regular thing. He would have laughed, then probably started crying, then would have returned to laughing his fucking ass off.

But, of course, that was last year.

Ever since the third years have left, since that last match of spring high, since Yahaba's been captain, Kyoutani has been to practice. At first, being on time was a little bit of an issue, but-- a couple more morning practices, and he was there on the dot.

(It was almost like he had to get used to it. Y'know, _actually_ attending practice.)

So, despite the fact that past Yahaba would find it a riot, current Captain Yahaba was.... worried? Was worried the right word? Concerned? Intrigued. Maybe that was it. Yahaba was _curious_. Kyoutani's had a perfect track record so far this year.

Watari quirked an eyebrow as he watched Yahaba tap his fingers on the edge of the ball cart, gaze trained forward, an obvious sign that he was focused on something other than the pretty wall. The libero cocked his head to the side for a moment, waiting to see if Yahaba would notice he was standing there; when a minute passed and he got nothing, Watari sighed.

"....I know that you want to be as good as a captain as Oikawa-senpai was, but I don't think staring into space like he did is the way to go about it." That got Yahaba's attention rather quickly, and he stood up straight as an arrow, swinging his attention to the shorter male immediately.

"....A-Ah? Was I?" Watari raised his eyebrows and leveled Yahaba with a stare.

"Thinking about the fact that Kyoutani wasn't at practice?" Before Yahaba could say anything to deny it, Watari continued easily, "He hasn't missed any so far.... Ah, but it's only morning. Maybe he's running late? Slept in?"

Yahaba clicked his tongue and nodded slowly, lips pulling into a deeper frown as he glanced to the clock, then back to the doors of the now-emptying gym. Morning practice was over, it was almost time for school to start, and there was still no sign of the wing spiker. Watari must have been watching his expression again, because he suddenly laughed and patted his friend on the back.

"Don't worry too hard about it, alright? He's probably just late."

"I'm not-- _Watari_ , I'm not worrying." Yahaba’s eyebrows were furrowed, and his face was drawn together in a small grimace. Watari didn't say anything else, merely giving Yahaba a knowing glance before adjusting the strap of his bag and walking off. And maybe that should have been the end of it. Maybe he should have been able to relax then, taking Watari's words to heart, letting his shoulders fall and allowing himself to release the breath he had been holding.

But he didn't, because he couldn't, because he wouldn't.

Because Yahaba, at his heart, was a worrier. A really bad one. Luckily, though, he also happened to be something of an optimist-- which is the only reason why he didn't call the cops when he didn't see Kyoutani anytime during the day.

Watari, once again, seemed to notice this uneasiness at lunch, giving the captain another pat on his back. "Maybe he just decided not to come in today?" Yahaba nodded wordlessly in response, slowly chewing his food as he stared forward throughout the lunchroom.

He still didn't want to believe it, though. That Kyoutani had gone back to his behavior of skipping practices and classes.

(It was also still pretty irritating to Yahaba that he was worrying— _thinking_ about that asshole in the first place, especially since he was probably just fine, there was probably nothing going on.)

"I'm going to his house once practice is over this afternoon." Watari, mid-bite, jolted up once Yahaba finally spoke, cocking his head to the side. "If he's perfectly fine, then there's no reason he shouldn't have been at practice today." Placing his things back neatly in their containers, Yahaba stood up, biting the inside of his cheek for a moment before adding sharply--

"That's what Oikawa-senpai would do."

\--but it seemed like the statement was more to himself than anything.

Even when afternoon practice came and went, there was still some of that optimism spinning around in the pit of Yahaba's stomach saying that Kyoutani might still show up today, that he won't have to go to the other's house because, well, that would be _awkward._

But, alas, here Yahaba was, lips twisted into a grimace, every single thought possible dropping to the pit of his stomach as he trudged towards the exit of the gym like a man walking towards his own funeral. Watari walked beside him in silence, eyebrows raised and hands in his pockets as he accompanied his captain out the gym. They had been closing up, and it was obvious that something was on Yahaba’s mind—and it was obvious exactly what it is.

Watari sighed.

“Just go _see_ him, alright?” When Yahaba’s grimace deepened, Watari rolled his eyes and stopped walking the moment they locked the gym doors. He didn’t say anything else, he just crossed his arms over his chest and leveled a look up at the taller male. Yahaba was obviously trying to not look into his eyes, because Watari is giving him his _you know I’m right and you’re just trying to not admit it_ stare. So, Yahaba’s shoulders fall, and after a moment or two he just nods his head.

“……Yeah, I am. I will. Like you said, it’s probably nothing, he’s probably fine.”

Watari debated pointing out that Yahaba seemed to be trying to convince himself again, but decided that it didn’t quite need pointing out. Instead, his lips twitched into a small smile.

“Mhmm. See you tomorrow?” Yahaba nods, and Watari turns to walk away, leaving the other standing outside the locked gym. Running a hand through his dusty brown hair, the third year adjusted his bag on his shoulder with the other hand as he began walking in the direction he remembered Kyoutani’s house was in.

Now, Yahaba’s relationship with Kyoutani had arguably gotten a _lot_ better since the new year began— maybe it had to do with the former third years leaving, or the Spring High itself, but it seemed that Kyoutani had mellowed out a bit and become more of a “team player.” Of course, they still argued quite a bit, or rather, they took turns on yelling at each other one-sidedly. No matter what though, it seemed that Kyoutani would always show up to practice, no matter what either of them had yelled at the other the day before.

If anything, it was as if Kyoutani had gained some _respect_ for him, which seemed a funny prospect in the first place.

It wasn’t a hidden fact that the only person out of the former third years that Kyoutani even cared to respect and listen to completely was Iwaizumi; so, the first day of practice without them, the first practice with Yahaba as captain, everyone was almost _deathly_ quiet when Kyoutani had actually listened to something Yahaba had to say. It was just some simple request of jumping a second sooner, and Yahaba had honestly expected a _Maybe you should fuckin’ set sooner?_ but all he got was a grunt, a short nod, and the next time around Kyoutani jumped a second sooner. Of course, it wasn’t a complete change, because the moment he realized why everyone was suddenly quiet, he snapped at them and scared a first year or two.

Maybe that’s why Yahaba found himself at Kyoutani’s front door, because he didn’t want to think that the other was going back to the _old_ days, where he was infrequent at practice and alarmingly rude to everyone present—when Yahaba wasn’t sure how well he could actually fill Oikawa’s shoes. Because even if Kyoutani always tried his complete hardest to not ever listen to Oikawa, the setter was always _still_ able to bring out the best in him, to use him effectively, and that was something Yahaba wasn’t sure he could do without at least a little bit of Kyoutani’s cooperation.

(Sometimes, though, he found himself hoping that Kyoutani would respect him even when volleyball _wasn’t_ concerned.)

It took him literally a couple minutes before he finally sucked in a deep breath and knocked on the door, his other hand squeezing the strap of his bag out of obvious nervousness. He honestly didn’t know what he wanted more— Kyoutani to be perfectly fine, just having skipped practice and school, or something be…. wrong. If Kyoutani really had just skipped to skip, then…. It was likely he wouldn’t want to see Yahaba. Usually, in the hallways of the damn _school_ Kyoutani didn’t want to see Yahaba; he would always spot the other for a millisecond then duck away as soon as possible.

But, then the door opened, and Yahaba stopped breathing for a second or two.

Kyoutani looked _terrible._

Not on the actual attractiveness front, because Yahaba had been realizing Kyoutani was really quite— _okay,_ not the current point. On the _actual current physical appearance_ standpoint, Kyoutani looked terrible. There were bags under his eyes, more than usual, he looked alarmingly tired, and his cheeks were flushed a deep red. He was also hunched over a bit, so he looked even shorter than he really was. He didn’t say anything, he just stared at Yahaba blandly.

“You’re _sick._ ” Wait, shit, Yahaba sounded way more relieved than he should at the fact that Kyoutani looked clearly _very_ ill. It was obviously confusing to the wing spiker, but Yahaba didn’t bother with caring about that at the moment. He was relieved, he really was, because that meant that Kyoutani wasn’t reverting back to his old ways, that things were really actually getting better. Kyoutani was just sick, that was it—wait. “….I mean, I’m not _happy_ about **that.** ” Yes, an explanation.

Kyoutani seemed to think for a moment, his sparse eyebrows furrowing a tad, before he looked back at Yahaba, as if he understood something suddenly. “You thought I was ski—” He stopped midsentence, as if he forgot where he was suddenly. He blinks a couple times, eyebrows furrowing as he tried to get back on some kind of mental track. Yahaba took a step closer, the worry and skittishness he was feeling earlier that was obvious in his eyes was now replaced with even more obvious concern. He places his hand to Kyoutani’s forehead, not minding the sweat sticking to his forehead.

“You’re— you’re burning up. What was your temperature?”

“…Never took it.”

“Have you been taking any medicine?” The silence that followed, along with the fact that Kyoutani avoided Yahaba’s eyes, said nearly everything. Yahaba chewed on the inside of his cheek a moment, because it was obvious Kyoutani was alone right now, and hadn’t done a single thing in the venture to make himself feel any better. “….When will your parents be back?”

It was even more obvious now that Kyoutani was sick, because he almost looked like a kicked puppy when he looked down. “…..Probably tomorrow or somethin’. I don’t know how late they’re gonna be.” Something fell to the pit of Yahaba’s stomach, and the young man sighed, then thought a moment or two before he nudged the door open a bit, taking a step in when Kyoutani stepped to the side. “What’re you—”

“Go sit down.” Yahaba took off his shoes, lips still in that concerned frown. “Have you had soup, or anything?” His tone was soft, light, as if he were talking to a scared animal.

(Which, of course, wouldn’t be that much of a stretch from the reality.)

When it was obvious that Yahaba had every intent of staying, Kyoutani slowly closed the door, keeping his eyes on Yahaba’s as he shook his head, grunting gruffly, “No.”

“You haven’t eaten _anything_?” Kyoutani shook his head, and Yahaba sighed, running his hands through his hair for the second time that day.

“I— you don’t have to fuckin’ worry ‘bout it. I’m not sick often, I can take care of m’self. I’ll be back at practice tomorrow.” Kyoutani was acting like he was getting scolded, just like he used to do when Iwaizumi or even Oikawa would get angry with him. He rubbed his arm, looked away, and seemed antsy. Yahaba pressed his lips together, then sighed again.

“You obviously can’t. Your fever’s probably gotten worse since this morning. Like I said, go lay down, okay? You need medicine, but I’m going to make you something to eat first.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I _know._ ” Yahaba narrowed his eyes, because of _all_ the time for Kyoutani’s stubbornness to come back, it was now. “Just— it’s more for my own sake than yours. I don’t want you getting in the hospital on us.” It was like Kyoutani was going to debate again, or that something was on his mind, but instead he shut his mouth and nodded slowly turning to trudge back up the steps.

There was something about Kyoutani’s first response that itched Yahaba the wrong way, the way he acted like Yahaba had been scolding him. Like Yahaba was angry at him. “—Wait, Kyoutani.” And then the setter bit his lip once Kyoutani stopped walking up the steps, looking down at him with tiredly muted eyes. “I….” Also genuinely care about your wellbeing? Want you to be okay? Came here because I was concerned about you _personally,_ not just because I’m your captain? “…think you should sit down here. So I can keep an eye on you.” Close, that was close. Kyoutani simply nodded, shoulders still hunched as he carefully moved to sit on the couch, facing backwards as to rest his chin on the back of the sofa and watch Yahaba.

He felt the stare the entire time, as Yahaba heated up soup, only occasionally looking back to find Kyoutani’s eyes had fallen closed sometime between actually opening the bottle of chicken stock and turning on the stove’s burner. There was about to be a sigh of relief, too, because Kyoutani being asleep made this a whole lot easier—

“Why’re you doin’ this.” Well, _shit._ “And don’t say that it’s ‘what a captain would do’ bullshit, either.” For someone who likely had a pretty high fever, Kyoutani was pretty perceptive. Yahaba looked back at him, saw his eyes were still closed, and bit his lip. When he didn’t answer automatically, Kyoutani continued, his voice uncharacteristically soft because of the likely sore throat. “Makin’ sure I wasn’t skippin’?”

“…Yes.” Yahaba stirred the contents of the pot, keeping his gaze down at it, eyebrows drawn together. Kyoutani didn’t say anything further, and when Yahaba looked back this time Kyoutani wasn’t even on the back of the couch anymore, presumably having fallen to laying down.

It didn’t take him too long to finish the soup, and after he found a bowl and spoon he walked over to the couch, sitting at the edge of it that Kyoutani wasn’t already curled up on, wrapped up in blankets that he must have already had there.

“C’mon, you gotta eat something. It’ll help your throat.” There was some kind of mixture of a grunt, grumble, and whine that came from the bundle of blankets, which almost made Yahaba laugh, but he held it back in favor of setting the bowl of soup on the coffee table and nudging Kyoutani. “C’mon.”

Another long, low whine.

“Just have a little bit of it.”

This time, a grunt that sounded kind of like “Just let me fuckin’ sleeeeep.”

“…..It’s chicken soup.” Kyoutani’s fingers were already reaching for the spoon, even while he was still covered with blankets, and Yahaba nudged him again with a tilt of his lips into a smile. He was helpful, at least, sliding the bowl a little closer when Kyoutani finally sat up to eat some of it. Watching as the other took a slow bite, Yahaba found himself biting his lip again, hands folded almost nervously in his lap.

“….S’good.” Yahaba was pretty certain that was all he was going to get on the matter, so he nodded, continuing to watch as Kyoutani ate a couple more bites before closing his eyes again. He leaned back, placing the spoon down.

“Also.” Yahaba’s voice starts speaking before he could register what he was even planning to say, and he gulped a bit when one of Kyoutani’s eyes opened and the wing spiker turned a little bit to look at him. “I’m not here to just… make sure that you aren’t skipping practice.”

The unasked question of “Then what else are you here for?” hung in the air like a thick weight, and it made Yahaba suck in a deep breath. What else _was_ he here for? Was he—

He really was _worried_. He really did want to make sure that Kyoutani hadn’t reverted back to his old habits, because that didn’t just mean distance lost between him and the team, but it also meant distance lost between him and Yahaba _personally._ They had been slowly getting better, talking more, communicating more, acting a helluva lot more like a captain and ace should— acting more like Oikawa and Iwaizumi did, as close as they did.

Maybe that’s another thing that Yahaba wished to have something of; a relationship like that, one with so much trust. And when Kyoutani didn’t show up to practice, Yahaba was worried that was another sign that he wasn’t going to be able to have the respect that he wanted to have from Kyoutani. And when Kyoutani didn’t show up to school, Yahaba was worried that something was wrong— because in the back of his mind, he knew that he already cared about Kyoutani the same way Oikawa would care about Iwaizumi.

So Yahaba closed his eyes as well, continuing evenly. “I also came to make sure you were okay.”

Kyoutani was staring at him now, Yahaba could feel it, but he didn’t open his eyes. So, he didn’t stop himself, he decided to continue. He sucked in a deep breath, and was about to speak, but Kyoutani cut him off. “……..Why?”

Dammit, goddammit, fuck, alright. “I…. don’t know,” he lied, eyebrows furrowed, eyes reopened.

“You’re lying.”

“How do you know?”

Even though Kyoutani was sick, tired, his eyes still managed to carry some of the intensity Yahaba always found himself enthralled with, even as they boored right into his own. Kyoutani stared into his eyes a moment or two more before turning back to look straight, bringing the blankets further around him so much so that they muffled his voice a tiny bit.

“Your eyebrows. When you lie, you do that furrowing shit with your eyebrows.” Yahaba’s cheeks reddened a bit, because he himself knew this, but he didn’t know that _Kyoutani_ would know this. It made something jump in his chest a tad. “So. Why the fuck do you really _care_ if I’m okay. You coulda just waited ‘till tomorrow, I woulda been fine. And this.” Kyoutani nudged his head towards the half-eaten bowl of soup. “You didn’t have to fuckin’ do that either.”

“No one else was doing it for you.” Yahaba saw Kyoutani’s face twist into a look of disgust, or— maybe something closer to skittishness.

It’s as if he was thinking over it for a moment, and he started, “No one ever—” but he cut himself off, and burrowed a little bit into the covers. There are a couple more moments that pass before either of them speak again, but it was Yahaba that broke the silence.

“I really did want to make sure that you were okay, and that you weren’t skipping practice. Both.” How was he supposed to put this in a not-sappy way? Hm. “Because you’re important to me. Well, starting to be.” Not quite.

At that, Kyoutani snorted lightly, but Yahaba didn’t miss the flush of red at the tips of his ears that he would have easily attributed to his fever if it weren’t for the fact that it hadn’t been there before. “You’re a fuckin’ ass.” His voice got that uncharacteristic softness again, something that _definitely_ was attributed to the fever. “You’re… _starting_ to be important to me too. That’s why you don’t have to fuckin’ worry about me skippin’ practice.”

Ah, if only Yahaba could keep this extremely honest, soft-toned, easily blushing Kyoutani. Or at least take a picture of him to prove to Watari that he _did_ fact exist.

Even as it became obvious that Kyoutani was starting to fall asleep, Yahaba couldn’t help himself— “Can I ask you a question?”

“Hm?”

“Why did you _start_ coming to practice?”

The question remained unanswered for what was definitely somewhere between five and ten minutes, making Yahaba sure that Kyoutani had fallen asleep sitting right next to him, but the moment that the setter closed his own eyes, he finally got a response.

A drowsy, painfully honest, fever-induced response.

“’Cause I wanted t’ see you.” Kyoutani seemed to actually fall asleep right after that single sentence, head conking to the side and resting right on Yahaba’s shoulder. It made the taller boy sit straight up, stiff as a board, as if he were afraid any sudden movement would wake the other. When it became obvious that not even a freight train would awaken him, Yahaba relaxed a tad.

……He wanted to _see_ him. The sentence oddly made Yahaba’s chest tighten pleasantly, despite the fact that he’s sure Kyoutani would deny ever saying it if his internal temperature were a few degrees lower.

Hmm, he figured that he would think about it a little bit more after he rested his eyes for a moment or two. Kyoutani already seemed pretty comfortable, after all. Yahaba might as well sit there for another minute or two.

He gave one short glance to Kyoutani’s peacefully sleeping face before he shifted a tad, so he was reclining a bit more. Yahaba's lips pulled into a smile as he said softly, barely above a whisper, "You know, I'm pretty sure there's an idiom in English for this."

And, naturally, he fell asleep for the night.

(When they walked in together to practice the next morning, neither one of them looking each other in the eye, three things happened. First, Mizoguchi rolled his eyes and grumbled something sounding like "knew it." Second, Kindaichi begrudgingly handed Kunimi twenty bucks. Third, Watari whispered to Yahaba, "I'm just surprised you didn't end up sick too.")

**Author's Note:**

> omg i had fun writing this.... i hope i filled this out to your expectations! i changed a little bit of the prompt, just a smidgen, because once i started writing it.... ran from me....
> 
> (also, can you guess what idiom i am talking about)


End file.
